A Legend Yet Fulfilled
by SaxophonE GoddesS
Summary: The horrifying past of Knuckles and his new friend, Miranda, has been haunting them. Soon, their visions lead to the reason of the mysterious downfall of the Maya Empire. Once the mystery is revealed, though, chaos is spread throughout the world.
1. Intro

**Miranda is a character made by me (yay). Her description is revealed in chapter 2. This chapter's a stub, but you're just going to have to deal with that. It's just a little into.**

**PS: The perspective of each chapter changes frequently! Try to keep up. It's a little confusing at first, but it gets easier throughout the story. I got this idea from my favorite book, My Sister's Keeper. Read it if you haven't yet. It's amazing.**

_Miranda_

"Good morning, father," I said politely, nodding my head towards Maya King, Zipakna.

"Good morning, Andromeda," he returned with a sincere smile. Father has always been a good man: strong, fearless, and moral. He was fit the definition to the word "king" to a tee. He was very handsome too. He had a small beard, not quite a goatee, and beautiful black hair. His eyes were an unusual shade of hazel. He wore a long, thick loin cloth with the dazzling colors of the sun. Sometimes, he would even wear an orange, lightweight robe over his shoulders on brutally hot days to keep him from getting burned.

My mother was lucky to have him as a husband, although she didn't really have a choice. Our culture in Guatemala used to be very strict when it came to marriage. Your parents planned who you married. No complaints, end of story. Our family's reason for this was to keep our family strong and above everyone else. It's sad to say, but the people with the most money, have the most power. You can deny it, but it's mostly true.

We also didn't live very long back then. You were either murdered, killed by untreatable disease, or just plain die of an old age; which was around the age of forty back then, fifty if you were lucky. So, we had to marry early. On my sixteenth birthday, I would be married, to keep our family strong, no doubt to some rich stretch I've never heard of in my life. But tradition is tradition. A tradition, in fact, that has been passed down in my family for as long as anyone can think to remember. Breaking it then would just be absurd.

I was such a fool back then.


	2. A Job Like Ours

_Knuckles_

"Knuckles," the soft voice said from above me. "Knuckles, wake up. Come on. The guys made breakfast."

I slowly blinked my eyes open and let out a monstrous yawn that, I swear, almost knocked Miranda off my bed. She giggled as she sat herself onto the corner of the mattress. I smiled back. It's phenomenal how she can find humor in almost everything. I can't help but acknowledge that.

"Did you say something about breakfast," I asked, my eyes still drooping.

She laughed again. "Yeah. Sonic and Tails made tons of food. Let's go before it gets cold."

"Are you sure we can trust something that Sonic made," I cracked as she got up and headed for the door.

She looked back. "Hey, food is food, right?" She smiled even brighter and headed down the hall.

She's really something, that girl. She's a new kid too. She hasn't been a member of the crew for too long but, boy, does she know how to make a first impression. She took to all of us in no time flat. She's tough; I've seen her in action. She's strong, skilled, focused, heck, it doesn't even look like she's trying half of the time. She just does it, whatever it is, flawlessly.

Man, is she a looker too. She's the most beautiful echidna I've ever seen. She's lavender with deep brown eyes. She wears a red, long sleeve shirt with a black shirt underneath along with a pair of dark blue jeans and black shoes with neon blue markings. She also has a silver necklace with a few charms hanging off of it. She's tall as far as females go, she's slim, and she's got a great chest. I suppose that's not the thing to talk about though, what with having a girlfriend and all, but Miranda's worth bending the rules for. I don't think I'll ever be in any sort of relationship like that with Miranda anyway. Hell, she's probably got a boyfriend already, but I just can't help but stare every once in awhile.

When I got out into the kitchen, the whole gang was sitting around the table with plates spread all over the place. I sat down between Miranda and Tails. I smiled uneasily once I laid eyes on the mountain of black charcoal in the plate in front of me.

Sonic noticed my reaction. He took to it better than I thought. He pointed to the burnt crisps of rejected bacon and smiled. "That's your breakfast, Knuckles," he joked.

"Oh, and let me guess who made it," I answered. I scoffed and pushed the plate away, trying not to laugh at either one of the horrible jokes. That didn't stop everyone else though. The three of them just went on laughing. Sonic raised his hand, a way of telling me he ruined breakfast, just as I suspected.

Strangely enough, something happened to me that must've made me crazy, because all of a sudden I started laughing so hard that I couldn't breathe. The longer we laughed, the harder we laughed and this must've gone on for a good five or ten minutes until we calmed down.

Miranda stood up, her face bright red, and picked up a couple plates from the table. "I'll take care of dishes," she said, finally catching her breath.

Tails got up too. "Here, there's too much. Let me help," he said and picked up more plates.

I looked at Sonic. I just couldn't stop smiling no matter how hard I tried not to. I think he found it funny that I was in such a good mood since my reputation says otherwise. But he was smiling too, just as big. I softly punched him in the arm.

"Thanks for making breakfast," I told him.

He chuckled. "Maybe we should do it again some time," he said and he walked into the living room of the apartment to turn on the TV.

It's strange sometimes how some things happen. We had a great day and we all kind of bonded (if you use the word "bond" lightly) all because of some shitty pieces of bacon. I can't remember a time I laughed so hard or a time that I felt so happy just hanging out with my friends. Today, I realized that you don't need a reason to laugh. I realized that I can have a fun time no matter what my reputation is. I realized that I should show my friends how much I really love them, because with a job like ours, I'll never truly know when the last time I see them will be.


	3. Intellectually Obsolete

_Rouge_

Loud buzzes and clanks filled the large room of chrome. Dust filled the air and there was minimal light. Bright sparks flew out of a massive mound of metal, caused by and equally massive mound of flesh.

"Yo, doc," I yelled over the intense noise.

Once Eggman turned, all the chaos came to an uncomfortably sudden halt. "What is it Rouge, I'm busy with far more important matters," he said in his usual rude tone.

I scoffed. "Well, you could've told me about this 'big project' beforehand. Maybe then I wouldn't have to bother you so much."

Eggman slammed his tools on the table beside him and put his hands on his bulbous hips. "What else would I be doing? I'm planning my world domination! With this machine I will eliminate that pesky hedgehog once and for all. I'm sure of this one."

"And why am I helping you? What am I getting out of this?"

"When did you help me once with this project?"

I raised an eyebrow. Sometimes I wish he'd stop being such a smart ass and just get to the point.

He sighed. I bet he wished I didn't ask about that question. For a man with an IQ of 200 he's not very observant. Obviously, I'd ask about some kind of reward. Come on! It's me we're talking about! I'm never tricked into doing someone's dirty work without getting something out of the deal too.

"Fine," he said. "What do you want?"

"I want jewels," I exclaimed. "Lots and lots of jewels!"

Eggman's eyes widened and his eyebrows ran up to the top of his forehead. He stuttered uneasily. "How many exactly," he asked.

I repeatedly tapped my finger on my chin. I grinned mischievously to make him upset. "All of them," I concluded. "I want everyone to be forced to hand over all their gems to me.

He closed his eyes. "Fi-"

"And I want mines," I interrupted, with slaves who dig for more gems: all day, everyday."

"Alri-"

"And I want-"

"Listen," he yelled, "if you ask for anything else, none of your petty whims will happen, alright?"

"I sat down on a dirty, unstable wooden chair nearby. "Whatever," I said, pretending to sound uncaring.

Eggman nodded, although his face burned with the essence of anger and aggravation, just the way I liked it.

"How are you so sure this one will work, doctor," asked the voice from down the hall. Both Eggman and I quickly fixed our eyes on the silhouette and watched Shadow strut his way into the laboratory.

"Well, I've thought this one through a great deal. You see, all these years I've made inventions that were random. This time, I've come up with a way to hit them so hard that they'll be begging for their death beds! This will be something they'll never forget!"

Shadow lifted his head up and gazed at the mountain of steel. "So, somehow you're going to build a machine that makes a personal connection to Sonic and his pals, rather than trying to kill them yourself. A connection that will confuse them, hurt them, depress them…" he trailed on and faded away in his own words. He then began to circle around the invention-to-be.

Eggman looked surprised that Shadow had managed to find out his ideas so quickly and easily, but nodded at Shadow. "Yes, exactly," he admitted.

I stared at Shadow in wonder. He seemed so emotionless, and yet, so full of life. His intelligence was far beyond anyone would imagine him to contain at first glance. He never seizes to amaze me. I watched him closely: he scratched his head and crossed him arms. His eyes darted back and forth as he examined the complex piece of work. He must've understood the structure; I know I didn't. He scratched underneath his chin and slowly moved toward Eggman who was pressing his concealed hand on the table and leaning on his side. The two rambled on and on about who knows what. It's times like that that I feel inferior. I usually love who I am and feel so on top, but this time I felt out of place. I was an obsolete moth, searching for a purpose in my insignificant life, flying toward the direction I wanted to go, but finding that my light at the end of the tunnel was really what would end up killing me. I'm slowly getting zapped, and soon, I will die, while the two of them continue to excel and never even notice that I'm gone.


	4. Bitter Sweet Symphony

_Miranda_

I sat on the arm of the snow-colored couch, legs crossed and toes sinking into the contrasting, black carpet. I twisted the slick torso of my music stand and flipped through the pages if my book of standards. The saxophone is a beautiful instrument. It's sound is so exciting and pure. I gazed at the curved neck of the magnificent tenor and ran my hand slowly down to the bell, rising and falling carefully over the keys. After pasting my tongue to my lips, I slipped the mouthpiece into my mouth. I bit down on the worn top of the mouthpiece and tongued lightly on the smooth-shaved wood of my reed. I filled my lungs with sweet air and blew into the instrument and began my practice session.

I twiddled my fingers rapidly, soloing over Mack the Knife with my own imaginary rhythm section, backing me up in my head. Once I stopped, I smiled proudly for I had improved since last I've played.

Just then, Knuckles walked in fro the kitchen. He too was smiling. He applauded me. "Bravo," he eulogized. "Bravo! Encore!"

"Sure thing," I replied, "as long as I have my drummer to back me up." I winked at him.

"Hey, no problem," he said, sitting himself down at his drum set and pulling out his drumsticks from behind the stool. "Anything for the greatest sax player in the world."

I chuckled. "Yeah, whatever," I said.

"So," he said swinging back and forth in the stool and patting on his thighs with his sticks, "what are we playing today? Jazz? Rock?"

"Experimental," I replied.

Knuckles smirked and began tapping in a tempo on his snare drum. I tapped my foot along with it. It was a fair tempo, not fast, not slow.

"Anything goes," he cheered as the soft metronome of the drum crescendoed over his voice. I smiled and nodded and off we went playing our asses off.

Knuckles is a tremendous musician but he never wanted to get too involved with it. He always it solely be one of those things he did in his spare time, like Sonic watching TV and Tails constructing new inventions. If you ask me, though, he could've gone pro, no doubt. He plays the drums like you wouldn't believe and he too, like myself, plays the tenor saxophone. We love to jam together, we make a great duo. Playing with Knuckles is different from playing in an ensemble not because of size or intensity, but because of connection. We, both as musicians and friends, read each other's minds when we solo back and forth. We tell stories to each other and we each write a chapter, a lyrical passage describing our feelings, our passions, and our secrets. We speak in melodic verses that spill rivers of thoughts we do not normally think and words we do not normally say. This is what music really is.

Suddenly, his playing slowed down drastically.

_What is he trying to say?_

He brushed on his drum slowly and steadily. It was quiet. Still.

_Knuckles…_

He tapped on the tom-tom and beat louder and louder gradually.

_Is… is he warning me?_

He rolled on his bass drum. I quivered. My nails buzzed against the brass exoskeleton of my saxophone as a shook, astonished at what he was playing. I closed my eyes to put a vision to his beat, but it looked nothing like I had expected. There was only the chaos-driven madness of my inner mind. I saw darkness with rugged scrapes of deep purple stratus that stretched across the blackened sky. The entire image swirled and twirled about like dark and evil spirits, haunting me from the inside. Now, a lighter hue, larger than the rest, shined in the middle of the patterned mess. It whispered to me.

"Save me… save me… please…."

The soft voice turned to whimpers. It groaned and cried. The drums behind me were louder. The crashes of cymbals pierced through me like lightning. It thundered and roared as the screams from the mysterious wails echoed in my head.

"Oh God," it cried. "Oh God, please. Anyone, anyone at all! Help me. Save me!"

I lost myself. I forgot where I was, who I was. I was captivated. I was consumed. The voice and the music continued. There was no escape. All at once, the purples flickered and shocked to a sanguine red that dripped like blood down the dark walls of my skull. There, in the nothingness, stood a figure of a young woman, covered in the bleak, red soil. She reached out her hand, this, too, covered in blood.

"Kill me…."

Then, my eyes shot open. I grasped onto my chest and felt my heat pounding inside me, racing rapidly as I took in air. It felt as if I hadn't been breathing the whole time. My eyes scanned the room. It was dead silent. I turned to Knuckles who looked concerned. I then spotted Rouge, standing at the door which was wide open behind her. She grinned and walked over to us.

"The door was unlocked so I came in. Hope I didn't disturb anything important."

I'm never really sure when she's trying to be sarcastic.

Rouge glances at me for a moment. She looked disgusted. She pointed at my face. "What the hell is wrong with you," she asked me rudely.

Sure, I was mad. She was clearly trying to make me feel uncomfortable, but even still, I tapped my face with my fingertips and rubbed around until I reached my cheek and underneath my eye. I was soaked with tears.

_Had I been crying during all that?_

Rouge crossed her arms and shook her head. I braced myself for her to give me some more shit. She didn't. Instead, she swayed over to Knuckles who was still sitting on his stool. His face was emotionless.

"Knuckles, darling, are you ready," Rouge she asked.

"What? Ready for what," Knuckles asked, puzzled.

Rouge looked annoyed. She tapped her foot and scoffed. "You forgot? You silly boy," she sighed.

Knuckles' eyes widened. He growled and smacked his palm to his forehead. "Oh, of course, we were supposed to go out tonight, weren't we?"

Rouge raised an eyebrow. Knuckles got up from his seat and took her hand. "Rouge," he pleaded, "I'm sorry, baby. I really am."

She pondered for a moment, then stocked his face. "Fine," she said. "You can make up for it tonight."

The two of them went hand in hand to the door. Knuckles continued outside while Rouge stayed to give me a goodbye scowl. She squinted and yelled back at Knuckles, "Maybe if you weren't so busy playing your silly music with… what's her name over here, you would have remembered." She took one last look at me, then strutted out the door, slamming it behind her.

With that, I put my sax back on its stand and flopped over face first on the couch. I held my breath and wedged my head in between the cushions like a fucking ostrich. I felt like I needed to hide for some reason. In my hole, I thought about the last couple of hectic minutes, about the crazy day dream, about that whore, Rouge, about Knuckles playing what he played. Once I started getting light headed, I lifted my head and breathed deeply. I grabbed onto a little white pillow. It felt so soft and cuddly, so I hugged it tight and squeezed it out of anxious feeling that it would leave me.

"He didn't even say goodbye," I said to myself.

Holding onto the pillow even tighter, I rolled off the couch and onto the floor. I lay on my back now. Here, I thought of nothing at all. I was just a body taking up walking space. I felt useless. Soon, I found myself going a little crazy because I started giggling out of my own confusion. It was the fakest laugh I've ever heard. I swear, if Sonic or Tails had gone into the room at the time, they would've thought that I was high. I threw the pillow back onto the couch. I tried to get back onto the soft, white cloud of a sofa we have, but I couldn't seem to pull myself up. Giving up trying, I tumbled back onto me stomach and stared at the blackness of the carpet.

"It's funny how one minute you can be on Cloud Nine and the next…" I paused, "you're here in the unforgiving abyss of darkness, hate… nothing."

Having said that, I banged my head on the floor and held my breath once more to wait for Knuckles to come back. For whatever reason, it made me feel better not to breathe. Don't ask me why. After a while, of course, I was breathing and sitting up with my back up against the couch. Minutes felt like hours and hours felt like days but I kept on waiting so I could at least talk to him about that song before bed while it was fresh in my memory. Finally, though, at one in the morning, I decided to go to sleep. I doubted that he'd be coming back that day anyway. That fucking whore.


End file.
